


words are futile devices

by wintrs



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Morning After, Post Max's Birthday 2019, Pre-Relationship, they didnt bone tho this is just bday aftermath, this is LITERALLY the most on brand thing I've ever written, waiting for the day somebody finally forces me to stop writing sleepy cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28148712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintrs/pseuds/wintrs
Summary: Birthday boy, are you okay?but Daniel is there to ask in person the morning after.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	words are futile devices

**Author's Note:**

> returning to my roots! clearly inspired by the footage we got of max and daniel on the place circa 2019.

Daniel wakes up smothered. 

_Smothered_ is really the only word that covers it. Max is splayed out on top of him in a way that must be as uncomfortable for him as it is for Daniel, but he’s still sound asleep, slack-jawed and dead to the world. Daniel is pretty sure he’s been drooling all over Daniel’s bare shoulder, too, but it’s alright. He can make some allowances. 

Daniel reaches across his chest to card his fingers through Max’s hair. The night is coming back to him in bits and pieces, working backward; by the time they’d made their semi-coherent drunk walk home, Daniel had been sobering up enough to appreciate Max being too shitfaced to turn his key properly. There’s a concerning chunk of time in the middle where he doesn’t remember _anything_ , but the rest of the night is a fuzzy-but-memorable blur of mojitos and Max’s stupid party tricks. 

Max huffs into Daniel’s shoulder, smacking his lips, and Daniel really can’t feel bad for dragging him a little closer to waking up. He slides his hand a bit further down, running over the short hair at Max’s nape, anticipating the shift of Max’s body as he transfers most of his weight from Daniel to the bed. Daniel watches, his own eyes still soft with sleep, as Max blinks his eyes open once, twice before focusing on Daniel, reminiscent of the way Max's eyes had been constantly catching on him last night.

"Birthday boy," Daniel says. "Are you okay?"

Max scrunches his nose, closing his eyes and pressing his face into Daniel's shoulder, but Daniel doesn't need to see it to feel Max's begrudging smile. It always ends up like this when they get wasted and end up in bed together, although clearly nothing too interesting happened this time. Max goes all contemplative and a little bit sweet and grumpy all at once, and it reminds Daniel of their early mornings at Red Bull, 4:30 plane rides and video shoots and whatever else they were made to do. 

It makes him feel old, too, reminds him how young Max still is with his face hidden in Daniel’s shoulder. Twenty-two, as of late, and currently too sleepy to be bothered with saying anything substantial.

Max tilts his head back to glare half-heartedly at Daniel. “Fuck you.”

“That can be arranged,” Daniel teases. 

If Max were any more awake, Daniel would’ve gotten hit with a pillow for that, but instead he gets an eye-roll and a poorly concealed spark of interest. 

“Later,” Max says. He rolls all the way off of Daniel with a groan, laying out on his back like how he usually sleeps. He’s already nearly asleep again, but seemingly with the last of his strength he grabs one of Daniel’s arms, bringing his hand to rest on the soft skin of Max's solar plexus.

Daniel smiles, bemused and undeniably endeared. He mentally settles himself in for another hour or two in bed and starts tracing random patterns with his fingertips, scratching at Max's skin just lightly, the way Daniel knows he likes. Normally he would've gotten up by now, whether he were alone or with somebody else, but it's a special occasion. More importantly, probably, is that it's Max.

**Author's Note:**

> title from futile devices by sufjan stevens, with particular inspo from the lines "and I would say I love you / but saying it out loud is hard / so I won't say it at all / and I won't stay very long"


End file.
